Disclaimer: I don't own Kyou Kara Maou! – It belongs to its respective owners. This fan fiction is not a commercial project, and I'm not making any money from writing it.

Warnings: yaoi (male x male), violence, swearing, angst, drama. Wolfram-centric, out of character, original character.

Summary: With Yuuri's upcoming birthday, Wolfram makes his decision. Where will it lead him and what is to become of them? Should eventually be Yuuri x Wolfram.

A/N 1: Yuuri – 18 years old. Wolfram – 21. Eldara – 32. Halea – 20. Athara – 18. Gwendal – 54.

A/N 2: Greta doesn't exist.

A/N 3: European/American/Japanese standards all at once depending on the plot requirements.

A/N 4: A tendency to ignore the anime/manga and supplement the story with my own imagined facts.

A/N 5: Season III is not taken into consideration, except for the fact that Wolfram's uncle exists.

A/N 6: The umlaut in Gunter's name is a bother.

Bloom

by chayron (lttomb yahoo com ), beta-read by Anonymously Awesome

EPILOGUE

Shibuya of Shin Makoku's birthday celebration

Gwendal had held a very secret but a very strong hope that von Ashira would come to Shibuya's birthday celebrations. Eldara, however, had sent his brother, Athara von Ashira, in his stead. Whether he was too busy or too reluctant or hadn't received permission to leave Kardera, Gwendal didn't know, but his disappointment was immeasurable. He was even more disappointed with his disappointment.

Conrart and Yozak were honeymooning, and he didn't want to admit it but the joy-filled letters from Wiederhaal, where his brother was recuperating, annoyed him. Not too much, only a little bit and it didn't overshadow the fact that he was glad to read that his brother was so happy. He hadn't believed it would ever be possible to somehow glue that deranged relationship together. He still didn't. Well, at least, it was all good for now.

Athara von Ashira was on the opposite end of the room from von Voltaire. The official reception was still going but he had already passed that part and was now waiting for others to be introduced to Shibuya of Shin Makoku. The king was on the throne, smiling benevolently and nodding repeatedly. There were four Royal Guards, two on both sides of the throne. A bit farther away from the king was a cluster of the chosen nobility: von Voltaire, von Bielefelds, von Christs, von Spitzweg, von Karbelnikoff and a handful of others. Conrart Weller and Yozak Gurrier were absent due to Weller's recent injury. Rumor had it that the two had finally married.

Athara cast another look around the Grand Hall. He still couldn't get over the fact of how ordinary it looked. He had to admit that it was still impressive and tasteful, but there was none of the luxuriousness or pomposity one would expect to see at such a grand reception. Pastel colors, mostly blue and green carpets. Nothing looked new, but nothing looked outworn either. The style was…classic? If one could call it that. Moderation – the newest trend set by the king had prevailed all over Shin Makoku. Instead of chasing after the newest trends and fashions, Shibuya of Shin Makoku promoted charity. It was a very unusual concept in most of other countries. Now, instead of redecorating their castles over and over and endlessly ordering and buying new carriages and outfits, the rich in Shin Makoku built hospices, children homes, schools, even bathhouses. It hadn't been unusual for noble families to concern themselves with charity and they donated to the odd institution quite often, but this was on a completely different level. There were, of course, people who made fun of Shibuya, calling him the King of Tramps. However, it was a well-known fact throughout the kingdom and beyond that the king was absolutely unimpressed by jewelry, gold or flattery. If one wanted to gain his favor, it had to be through innovations or investments that could profit everyone in the kingdom. Therefore, the nobility in Shin Makoku ended up competing amongst one another to see how much money one family could spend, for example, on building a school. There was even an anecdote about Shibuya visiting one of them in the countryside. It was said that he had taken a look at the endless beautifications on and around the castle, then had asked whether there was still enough money left to buy desks and hire teachers.

Shibuya, in general, was well-liked in his kingdom, especially amongst the common folk. And, if not liked, then mostly feared for he had a unique way of showing his displeasure. He talked a lot. He had an absolutely unshakable conviction that everyone was well-wishing and honest at heart. The endless talking and shaming usually did the trick, especially since everyone knew that if there was still no improvement, von Voltaire was going to make certain that there was. Messing with von Voltaire was still much worse than with the young king.

Athara's eyes found von Voltaire. The man was tall, with wide shoulders, a strong build, and was easy to spot even in such a throng; practically a gorilla in a flower garden. He couldn't even boast very good looks. Not for the first or, likely, the last time, Athara wondered about his brother's taste in men. Wolfram's build wasn't exactly delicate either, but he was a lot easier on the eye. However, according to the most recent rumors, von Bielefeld belonged to Shibuya. Again. He had asked Wolfram if it was true, and the blond had told him vaguely that, yes, it just might be. Athara was convinced that the two were going to use this occasion and announce the renewal of their engagement.

Thankfully, the introductions were finally over, and everyone was invited to the dining room. There were so many guests that they had put about fifty tables together and even then people had to sit tightly, nearly side to side and back to back.

Often forgetting that he had spent a few years at the Military Academy in Shin Makoku, Eldara had warned him about the food. He was fine with the food, however. Besides, with the way the guests had been seated, he was at the table with a few other Karderians and there were many dishes prepared especially for them. Athara appreciated the thought, that had to be Wolfram's.

With growing horror, Wolfram watched the king raise his glass and wait for everyone to hush. Apparently, he had a toast to propose. He feared that Yuuri might have decided to propose to him publicly. He had a feeling that Yuuri had been waiting for him to get used to the idea of their sort-of-renewed engagement before proposing again. Well, he hadn't! He didn't even want to get used to it. He would turn it down in a blink. Yet in front of so many people… This was emotional blackmail!

"Thank you very much for gathering today to celebrate with me," the king said. "Thank you for your wishes and gifts. I do hope that gathering here every year like this will become a tradition. Now, using this opportunity, I would like us to send our best wishes to Sir Weller and Captain Gurrier. They aren't here today due to certain circumstances, but, as most of you know, they married barely a week ago. To the newlyweds."

With claps and congratulations, everyone drank their wine. Wolfram gulped down the whole glass at once. He was confused. Sitting down and waiting for the food to be served, he stared at his empty plate. His disappointment was immeasurable, and his anger was scorching. There was also relief somewhere, but he had barely registered it. Unwillingly, he had constructed an expectation all on his own and it got crushed while kicking his pride in the nuts. Amazing. How stupid could he get? Wolfram's hands pressed into fists against his thighs.

Why didn't the fool propose?!

During the entire banquet, Karela Ine couldn't help but think that this was a perfect opportunity to annihilate Shin Makoku's entire nobility. A well-aimed fireball would do the trick. Even as he sat at the same table next to Athara von Ashira as a guest, his brain was working. All of them had been disarmed and the worst he could do to a hypothetical attacker was to launch a fork in their eye; the knives were thoughtfully dull-edged.

"Will you finally relax?" Athara said. "You're getting on my nerves. Let me pour you some more wine."

Karela didn't know who had come up with this seating arrangement but sitting amidst nobility was most awkward. Thankfully, barely anyone had an idea that he was merely a guard at von Ashira's castle. He, however, had a feeling that there had originally been an intention to seat him together with Yozak and Conrart. That would have been even more awkward. It was a good thing that the two were absent.

"Thank you," Ine muttered, taking his refiled glass. He cast a look at the end of the table where the king and people closest to him sat. Von Bielefeld was on his right, having taken von Voltaire's place. Now von Voltaire was on his left while Gunter von Christ… Gods only knew where von Christ was – he kept flitting all over the hall. Then he spotted von Christ not too far away from his own seat. He and von Ermin were enthusiastically discussing something.

Karela's interest returned to von Bielefeld again. The man looked stunning in his cream-colored jacket and trousers. It was somewhat military style, straight and strict, but the delicate cravat and short frilly cuffs that could be seen from under the sleeves made the ensemble exceptional. Not to mention the emerald brooch that pinned the cravat to the shirt underneath, that made you stare at the blond's exceptionally green eyes. Not that Karela had ever been interested in fashion or clothes in general; he was more interested in how von Bielefeld stood out and what impression he made on people. The guests were reacting to him. Curious, careful glances or even unconcealed stares from both women and men kept flitting in the blond's direction during the entire meal.

The rumors that von Bielefeld had regained the king's favor appeared to be true. Karela didn't know what the two had fallen out over in the past but it had obviously only been a question of time – the king was bound to forgive von Bielefeld over and over. One couldn't just ignore him. It was also obvious from the way they talked to each other, or the way the king touched his arm suggesting he try this or that.

"Has anyone told you that you look stunning today?" Yuuri asked him.

Wolfram didn't even bother to mask his pleasure at hearing the compliment. "A couple of times," he admitted.

Yuuri chuckled.

They were on the balcony, enjoying the music wafting out from the ballroom. It was dark already, and many guests were already drunk or asleep in the guest rooms. Wolfram had an air of discontent about him. Yuuri could also sense a feeling of general embarrassment. Yuuri chuckled again.

"There was something you wanted me to tell everyone, wasn't there?

"No, there wasn't."

"I did think about proposing to you, but then decided that it wasn't a very good idea to do it in front of so many people. You still think me too carefree, don't you?"

"No, I don't."

"Oh, Wolfram… First of all, I want it to be your willing choice. I want it to come naturally to you. I'd be glad to propose to you, but I'm more than certain that it would only result in you gaining a major headache while trying to figure out whether you should accept it or not."

Wolfram's face was telling Yuuri that he was absolutely right. Then the blond blushed.

"You do realize that you've just proposed to me, right?"

"Well… I don't require your answer, though."

"You idiot. Everyone wants an answer."

"Well, yeah, but you don't have to give one. You know, I think it's best if it's you who would propose to me. Once you're ready, that is."

"Hah?!"

The incredulity on Wolfram's face so clear that it annoyed Yuuri.

"Right. The problem is that I can hardly see it ever coming naturally to you. The only thing that comes naturally to you is your mistrust of me. It would never even occur to you to propose to me because then you'd have to take the responsibility for your choice, right?"

From the way Wolfram's lips pressed into a tiny dash, Yuuri figured that he was going to be told to fuck off. That was one of Wolfram's favorite arguments when the notion of responsibility came up in this kind of context.

"You know," Wolfram said instead, "I want a fucking trial period. I suggested the same thing to Conrart. Only that he was too stupid to listen to me. He thinks that their marriage will miraculously change things. Well, it freaking won't!"

"Perhaps they have already changed and that's why they decided to marry?" Yuuri suggested. "But let's return to your 'trial period'. Do you mean an 'engagement'?"

Wolfram appeared to be confused, which made Yuuri chuckle. "It's a well-known fact that the trial period for marriage is engagement." He quieted at the look on the blond's face.

"Hah."

Since that was the only thing that left the blond's mouth, Yuuri started thinking that he couldn't even begin to imagine what mess was in his lover's head. What Wolfram clearly wanted but wasn't able to put into words was a trial's trial. Such mistrust had to be crippling. It was, in turn, even crippling him. He couldn't trust Wolfram because of it as he kept thinking that Wolfram could start a new relationship with other men much easier than to maintain the current one. Despite what he had told Wolfram, he did want to tie Wolfram down, to make sure other men knew that he was taken and, at the same time, hoped that Wolfram would take their relationship more seriously. Or, perhaps, less seriously. Depending on which would make him feel better about them.

The blond still seemed confused, stunned even. He was just standing there, but then some kind of enlightenment appeared on his face. Yuuri didn't know what to make of it. He suddenly became worried that he had given Wolfram ideas, bad ideas like running off again and not having to deal with any of this. Wolfram was an expert in that and needed very little motivation to take that kind of action.

"Listen, it's alright," Yuuri said. "It's fine as it is. I mean we are already in a trial period of sorts and it's going well. I just get impatient at times, like today when everyone kept staring and wanted to talk to you. I suppose I get jealous easily and…"

Yuuri's voice kept droning on in Wolfram's ears, but he wasn't listening. He still wasn't able to get over the idea that it was him who could propose to Yuuri and that it had never occurred to him in the first place.

Proposing to Yuuri seemed to be a much safer option than the opposite. He would be in control. It would be he who would choose and then it would be much easier to end their relationship if something went wrong. If it was he who chose, it would also be he who would "unchoose". And Yuuri, obviously, didn't mind. The fool even encouraged it!

Of course, Wolfram realized that all of it was only in his head again just like Lyam had told him. Logically, he knew that there was no difference, especially since Yuuri had already unwittingly proposed. Now he was only sort of meeting Yuuri half-way. If he proposed now, it would only be his answer to Yuuri's question and yet, for some unfathomable reason, it felt much safer.

He could see them arguing. As usual, it was mostly Shibuya who was doing the arguing. Wolfram ended up listening or was just waiting it out. They probably didn't know that he was able to see and hear them from his balcony. Only individual words reached his ears, though, and he didn't know what it was about.

Von Voltaire took a sip from his wineglass. On some nights, when the two were being especially loud, he could even hear their voices from their bedroom. Closing the balcony door solved the problem but it always made him think that others could also hear them. Perhaps he should warn them. Or maybe they didn't care, and he would only spoil their fun. It was highly likely that he was just envious of the two. Then, after what seemed like a few minutes into Shibuya's annoying monologue, Wolfram suddenly slapped him across the face. That sure shut the royal prick up.

"Ah, shit," Gwendal muttered when he realized what had just happened. And the royal prick still went on talking. Didn't he realize? Apparently he did, since the two were suddenly kissing.

Von Voltaire averted his eyes; it did make him uncomfortable to see his brothers engage in sexual activity. He finished his glass. From the corner of his eye he noticed them leave the balcony. He didn't want to hear them consummate the new status of their relationship thus left his balcony as well and closed the door tightly. Tugging the curtains over the windows he thought that it was about time to come up with an excuse to visit von Ashira in Kardera. It could, after all, prove to be a great diplomatic success, and more. Or he could make a total fool out of himself. However, he was willing to take that risk.

THE END